


Ember

by Wordsyoucantaste



Series: Oculus [1]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Capeless, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff with a dash of angst, Gen, Non-Canonical, Oculus AU, RoyOllie fluff, Vampires, magical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 11:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12057642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wordsyoucantaste/pseuds/Wordsyoucantaste
Summary: part of an au rp backstory. in a capeless magical au, Oliver Queen is a vampire, Born and  raised in a world where he was taught that being alone is what's best to survive. So what does that mean when he stumbles on a newly orphaned boy?





	Ember

**Author's Note:**

> part of an au rp backstory. in a capeless magical au. Oliver is vampire, Roy is a human still. This was created as a mean to flesh out Roy's backstory with Oliver a bit and get a feel for how this all went down. Written solely for selfish reasons. I might write more of these kinds of things. Mostly cause i think it's fun. 
> 
> Angst with a touch of fluff. Or fluff with a touch of angst. Either way.  
> Warning; mentions of minor death at the end.

When Roy first felt the smoke choke him and fill his lungs, he still hadn't managed to let fear sink in his chest. No, he had sat there, for hours it felt, watching as the bright glow off in the distance got closer and closer until it became black and he couldn't remember how he ended up under these neon white lights. And what was that plastic around his face? Who were these gloved hands? And where was his father? He went to go save the missing family in the trees of the forest that surrounded Mount Spokane. But he returned didn't he? His dad must have taken him after he fell asleep from coughing too much, and left him with these people that keep talking to him like they know him.

Lights passed by, one by one, through the gaps of facing looking at him, hands touching him. Why did they have to touch him? Could they not, please? He gave a wheezing cough, shaking from the pain it caused and that's when he felt tears fall. Fear settled in heavy, the need to know what was going on taking over and he began to try and sit up. "Daddy?" He chirped, feeling small and remotely ignored when the mouth-covered people ignore him. He was pushed back down to the thing he was laying on despite hit efforts to sit up. They pulled him into a room, moved around him and ignored his cries of protest and pleas for his father. Either he felt weak from utter defeat from trying to get an answer, or they had done something to him, but he felt his world tilt-shift and slip, his body sinking fast as his sight grew black and he couldn't even think anymore as he shut down. The last thing he heard was "it's going to be okay, sweetheart."

When Oliver had taken to roaming the hospital, he convinced other's that he was there for a personal close friend. Of course he was lying, and had been snooping to try and score some donated blood bags; he had too much fun last night and forgot to restock and was now facing a rather ravenous appetite. He was set to slip past a nurse who had been hurriedly occupied with a new patient that had come through the ER, but the cries of a small child piqued his interest. Blood in sight, Oliver sighed as he let the door handle go and watched his opportunity for O negative slip away; curiosity got to the better of him as he watched a small red haired child was rushed into some room where he could be heard screaming for his dad. Oliver felt his heart strings pull a bit and he bit his lip. "... God damn it." He said, no longer able to ignore the situation. 

Waltzing up to the nurse's front desk, he gave a young and rather impressionable looking woman a dazzling smile before proposing his question. "What happened with the small fry?" 

The nurse, clearly taken back, stuttered for a split second, Oliver's glamour clearly working its magic on her. "He was caught in the fires out east. A family in the area said they saw his father run into the woods and never return." She gave, a lot more than she needed to. Too easy, Ollie thought. 

The boy's father didn't make it. "And his mother? Other family members?" The nurse shook his head. "Well surely he has someone..." Oliver couldn't believe that. Everyone had someone. Even he had someone. Had being the operative word, but at least someone would know or care about him should something happen. 

After Ollie had pushed the soft and weakened thoughts of pity on the small boy, he made his way back to the storage room, slipping in and grabbing a couple bags of blood. AB Positive tonight apparently. Its what they had the most of in stock. No sense in being too selfish. Ollie made it all the way to his car, in his driver's seat, keys in the ignition, ready to turn the engine over and leave. But he glanced up like a damn idiot and he could see the lights of the floor where the kid was. Could practically hear him whimper and cry as they carted him through and ignored him for the sake of his safety, whatever was wrong with him. Honestly, it made him sick, hearing the boy like this. Put him out of his misery or something. "Just shut him up already..." Oliver snapped, tired of feeling the weight of empathy. Who was this kid to do that to him anyway?

Ollie shook his head, ready to just leave already, but couldn't turn the key. "Shit." He hissed, slipping back out of his car, slamming the door shut and walking back inside. It was late already. The place was pretty dead. Nurses winding down for the night, lights going out in certain areas to allow patients to sleep. And Oliver had found the room where the little one was sleeping; it wasn't hard, the kid smelled incredible to him. 

He didn't know what to expect, honestly. A shrimpy little boy with red hair, sure. But there was something so soft and peaceful about him that gave Oliver this subtle glow and made his heart crack inside his damn chest like he knew this good pure thing was destined for absolute heart ache. And if what the nurse had said was true, if he really had no one, he would be a ward of the state. Lost in the system. And he would be destined for nothing but lackluster mediocrity at best, an early death at worst. 

He stepped in more, closing the door behind him before he took a chair and sat next to the boy... Ollie reached over and grabbed his clipboard, reading his file. Roy William Harper Jr. Five. Only known relative and emergency contact, Roy William Harper- deceased. Reason for hospitalization; Carbon Monoxide Poisoning. Yikes. 

He looked at Roy, admiring how his darker lashes sort of kissed his singed cheekbones and his red hair falling to cover half his face like he hadn't had a haircut in a while. Cute kid. More than cute. Something about the boy made Oliver feel... well, shit, it made him feel like he was at home. Like he needed to have this boy around him all the time, and it was likely that Ollie usually found this feeling in the company of gorgeous adults that promised a memorable night, but never like this for Christ's sake. It wasn't romantic. It wasn't sexual. It was just. need. Like he had to be here to protect him and make him feel safe. Paternal? Oh god he hoped not. He'd be an awful father, he knew that for sure. He barely took care of himself, much less care for another small person. 

But Roy, as if to tempt Oliver further, shifted with a small little squeak of an uncomfortable groan. He sighed loudly. What would he do? Just take the kid? Adopt him? Sure, he could. But his tongue ran over two very good reasons why that would be a bad idea inside his own mouth. Ollie wasn't human and this kid was. 

But did he have to be?

What the fuck was he thinking, turning a kid. He was pretty sure there was a rule against that. Or was he thinking about Anne Rice? Definitely Anne Rice. There were no rules in his world. Except expired blood. and Nightshade. And werewolves. Okay so maybe there were a lot of rules, but none so like that. Oliver dared to reach and touch Roy's wrist, holding the small thing in between his thumb and index finger. He could feel the pulse, weak and shallow, not as energetic or bright as he'd imagine in a five year old. The kid had CO2 poisoning. He surely wouldn't die from that. But fact remains that boy's as old as him didn't last long in the system. They weren't freshly born babes, often forgotten and overlooked for their age and gender. Puberty would hit, woes of being a teenager with nothing really to call your own and it's no wonder they get into trouble if given the chance. That's how it was out here anyway. With him, Roy could grow up in a warm and safe home. Could make friends. Go to a good school. Live a wonderful and long life. Have a shot at a family with Oliver even if he wanted. Wouldn't that be enough just cause?

He didn't even notice that he brought Roy's wrist up, brushing his lips against the skin there as he could practically taste the boy. It wasn't hunger that spread through his veins though. When the boy shifted again and grunted with a questioning look on his still sleepy and barely open eyes, Ollie paused. "Shhh, I'm gonna fix you." He wasn't broken. Just bruised up a little bit. "Make you feel all better okay?" He was lying. He was a thief now, robbing the kid of the truth by making a choice that would change his life forever for him. And he felt awful about it. But the magnetic sort of pull this kid had on him was too much to ignore and Ollie just had to do this. He felt it, down to the fibers of his being, that this is what he was supposed to do. This is how he'd help this little boy, how he'd save his life from a future of pain and rejection. Give Roy a new life with him, opportunity and no limits, safe from disease and poverty. 

Ollie brought his lips back to Roy's skin and nicked the skin with his teeth, sinking them in gently so as to not hurt Roy. Such a good boy, Ollie thought, noticing that Roy didn't even make a peep. His nose scrunched, emphasizing his little freckles as he made a face to cope with the sting. Oliver set the boy's wrist down gently after having licked the wound he created to mend the wound. He shifted higher up on the bed, keeping a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's your turn now..." Oliver let his eyes blow out to influence Roy's behavior as he glamoured him. Roy was hit almost immediately and he nodded, not even flinching when Oliver replicated the same motions he did on Roy's wrist on himself. Bleeding, he held his arm out and Roy easily, with little hesitation, leaned forward, drinking slowly and gently. So gentle it practically tickled and Ollie gave such a soft sweet laugh. Roy was so small, so frail and delicate with his ashen red hair and skin dusted with freckles and these big blue eyes that would tug on anyone's heart strings like it played Oliver's like a damn harp. And he was drinking from Oliver's wrist like he was a damn pro, all neat and sweet and affectionate in nature. 

Pulling his wrist back, he smiled, brushing Roy's hair out of his face. "Close your eyes and go to sleep...." He begged softly. But Roy shook his head, fists rubbing at his eyes. "I don't want to sleep, I want no more nightmares..." He said. He had fallen asleep several times in the time he had last felt the heat of a fire against his skin. And every time he closed his eyes, he smelled the smoke and his lungs burned and the way tears cut through the ash on his skin when he was waiting for his daddy to come back, even more when he knew that he wouldn't...

Ollie brushed a thumb along Roy's cheekbone and gave him a sad smile. "You wont get the nightmare this time. I promise. " Oliver had partially lied. He didn't know what it was like to die and wake up again. Never would. Roy closed his eyes. And soon had drifted to sleep on Oliver's word. And just when the boy began to show signs of sleeping and dreaming, Oliver bit down on his lip. This was the hardest part, he had already ran that through his head. But he couldn't possibly prepare for having to take this boy's life to give him a new one. Still, Ollie did as he needed to, shifting behind Roy and pulling him into his lap. His eyes welled up and Jesus fucking Christ this was too hard. But if he didn't, the boy would die slowly from being poisoned with his blood. He was too young and took too much. Oliver's hands felt enormous around Roy's neck, and he closed his eyes, not able to look as his hands twisted quickly, taking Roy's life as the child knew it. And while Ollie knew that Roy would wake up again in a few hours, healed and loved, it didn't take away the pain or fight back any tears that threatened to spill down his own cheek. He didn't move all night. Just sat there, waiting, holding Roy, promising that he'd always be there to love him.


End file.
